


Selfish Intentions

by Kurt_CoBlaine



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Everyone is Dead, George Blagden - Freeform, Kinda happy ending?, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, M/M, aaronjolras, enjoltaire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurt_CoBlaine/pseuds/Kurt_CoBlaine
Summary: After they're shot Enjolras wakes up and is faced with a choice: die with Grantaire or live to revolutionize?





	Selfish Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little warning, there's pretty heavy angst and the happy ending is death so...... be warned. 
> 
> All the characters are Victor Hugo's, I own nothing.

The rebellion had taken time, years of bearing over a map of old France and discussing the ideals of a republic. Yet it had been smashed in three days. Here it was left, writhing on the streets of Paris, drenched in the blood of the martyrs. Crippled. Abandoned by the victims of oppression.

Enjolras gasped for oxygen, weakly gulping in the air muddied with death in hoarse, heaving breaths. Clenching his strong jaw in agony, he forced his eyelids open and scanned the room. His piercing gaze fell on the dark figure laying at his feet.

Grantaire. Grantaire the cynic, the drunk, the final friend. Enjolras shifted off the wall, shooting a sharp flare of pain up his torso. He cried out, clutching the dark stain on his crimson red coat as he fell to his knees. He groaned, leaning over Grantaire's fallen body.

The sight of Grantaire broke his stern resolve. The years of pain that he ignored welled in his eyes, and for the first time since the creation of the Les Amis de l'ABC, the marble lover of liberty began to cry. He wept not for the fall of the barricade nor the loss of his friends. Even through the end of the barricade he had the faith that one day Patria would rise. Although he missed his friends dearly and his heart clenched at the thought of their deaths, he treasured their sacrifices for freedom. Courfeyarc, Combeferre, Jehan, Feuilly, Bahorel, Laigles, Joly, Gavroche, all of them. All the unknown faces who gave all they had for justice in France.

No, he wept for Grantaire. The cynic he had berated only to find a depth of love, admiration, respect, and veneration that was unknown to most men. He cried for the citizens who shut his friends out, unwilling to open themselves to the hope of freedom. He cried for the artillery sergeant who could have been his brother. Still he devoted most of his tears to Grantaire, whose only reason of living and dying was just to be near Enjolras.

Yet Enjolras was alive. O cursed angels that carried him from the arms of death. The arms of Grantaire. He was alive.

He knew his promise. He had sworn to give his life to Patria, to give his life to liberty. But now, every part of his soul cried out. They craved Grantaire, the smell of wine, his boisterous, laugh, his flippant tone, the paint that stained all his clothes.

Enjolras had never wanted another before. Now after a life in the glory of the sun, he hungered for the cool embrace of the dark. Could he allow himself to live selfishly after abstaining for so long? The bullets that pierced his chest had shattered the door that shut out his wanting. The splinters of wood stuck into his being. The urge to join his friends and fall into death muted his senses, but by sheer instinct he thought of his Patria Suddenly the silence of the streets seemed bitter and cold.

Enjolras felt old. At 22 his time on earth was spent. Someone else must rise to liberate the world. Harmony and concord would one day come, and their dream of equality, fraternity, and freedom would one day be realized by another. 

Waking back to consciousness, Enjolras found his beloved flag in his hands. He grasped the red fabric tightly with shaking fingers and laid next to Grantaire, covering their bodies with the flag. He kissed Grantaire feverishly, as if to wake him in death and tell him he was there. Grantaire's lips were unmoving and cold, but all Enjolras could do was lay there, pressing their lips together firmly. After a few moments he finally leaned back, sighing deeply.

Weaving his bloodied fingers through Grantaire's messy hair, Enjolras hugged Grantaire close and covered his body with his own, shielding him from the blister of light. He held Grantaire close, and together they waited for reunion and death.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's my first story on here so PLEASE COMMENT. If you want to see more of my fandom stuff follow me on tumblr here: https://lazilygloriousmusic.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!!! If you have any prompts please don't hesitate to send them to me!


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